


Construction Zone

by amythis



Series: Aftershocks [2]
Category: Laverne & Shirley (TV)
Genre: Exploding Season Eight, Laverne has healed enough to start healing Shirley, Lenny remains an adorable hippie, Multi, Shirley is pregnant and on the verge of divorce so she's not exactly looking for romance however..., Squiggy still has a mouth like a sewer, bisexual Core Four, the threesome that's kind of growing on you, wacky throuple maybe plus one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:28:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24162115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amythis/pseuds/amythis
Summary: Shirley adjusts to changes after six months away from Burbank.  Sequel toReconstructionby Missy, which is a sequel to myDisaster Management.
Relationships: Laverne DeFazio & Shirley Feeney, Laverne DeFazio/Lenny Kosnowski/Andrew "Squiggy" Squiggman
Series: Aftershocks [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704115
Comments: 83
Kudos: 5
Collections: Aftershocks-Verse





	1. Time Zones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/gifts).



As Shirley Feeney went through nine time zones in eighteen hours, she replayed the last phone conversation in her head and blamed herself. She did try to distract herself with fitful naps, in-flight movies and meals, and Laverne's tattered paperback of _Valley of the Dolls_ , but her mind kept rewinding to that morning a month ago. And she could blame her unborn child or her estranged husband, but she knew she was the one responsible, although at the time she of course blamed her ex-roommate.

"Hello?" she'd croaked after fumbling for the receiver.

"Hey, Shirl?"

"Laverne?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Laverne DeFazio, you've got some nerve calling here at four in the morning! Not to mention that I'm pregnant and Walter has twelve-hour shifts." Then she hung up loudly, before Laverne could apologize or explain why she'd called.

Shirley somehow immediately fell back asleep and she would've thought it was all a nasty dream, if her husband hadn't said when he got up, "Wow, you really tore into Laverne."

She wanted to call Laverne back, since it was now Sunday morning in California, but Walter didn't think it was worth the long-distance. "You girls can write letters, since there's nothing so urgent that you have to call each other at all hours. You're not teenagers anymore."

They got into an argument about it, their first serious fight in seven months of marriage. He had never understood her friendship with Laverne, how two such different women could be so close. Not unlike her mother, Walter thought Laverne was a bad influence, an influence Shirley at thirty should've long outgrown.

She and Walter patched up that quarrel, but there were others later, especially as she was unable to get in touch with Laverne. She did try calling, but Laverne never answered. And Shirley did send one letter, which Laverne never answered. Laverne didn't call either.

She must've been very hurt by Shirley's rudeness. Or maybe the reason why she'd called, whatever that reason was, was the same reason that she wasn't calling now. At her most optimistic, Shirley hoped that Laverne had met a wonderful new man and was spending all her time with him. But sometimes she fretted that Laverne had been in some sort of trouble the night she called and Shirley had pushed her away.

Shirley's German obstetrician encouraged her to take walks in her last trimester. So she'd stroll along the western side of the Berlin Wall and think about the people who were divided by politics, including innocent parties who just wanted their city to be whole again.

Eventually, she told Walter she wanted a separation.

"But you're carrying my child!"

"You'll still be the father, whatever happens to our marriage."

"Of course, but, Dimples, you're not thinking clearly with all those pregnancy hormones."

She almost asked if this was his medical opinion, but instead she pointed out, "I've been pregnant our entire marriage."

"Where would you go?"

"Home."

He stared at her. "To Milwaukee?"

"No, no, Burbank."

"Shirley, you haven't even heard from Laverne in three weeks."

"That's why I need to see her in person."

He clearly thought she was crazy but he made all the travel arrangements for her. When they kissed goodbye at the boarding area of Flughafen Berlin-Tegel, she didn't know if it would be for the last time.

She tried calling Laverne from LAX, but her estranged friend seemed to have the phone off the hook. Maybe Laverne had a heavy date, considering she lived alone these days, without Shirley as chaperone. Shirley caught a cab from the airport, not wanting to deal with buses in her condition. She arrived at seven p.m. on a Thursday, although her bulky, jet-lagged body told her it was four a.m.

If Laverne wouldn't let her stay, well, Shirley would go across the hall to the boys' apartment or upstairs to Carmine's and get a lift to her mother's place in San Diego. And then she'd figure out what to do next, but she really didn't want to leave California without hashing things out with her oldest and dearest friend.

It was a good sign that Laverne hadn't changed the locks on her, although Laverne obviously wouldn't expect her to show up without notice. Shirley let herself in and was about to say hello, when she was frozen by the sight that greeted her.

She had been prepared to possibly see Laverne making out on the couch with some man Shirley had never seen before. She was definitely not prepared for an act of intimacy involving three members of the Fillmore High Class of '56.

Lenny, looking like a flower child, including a daisy in his long blond hair, was sitting in a kitchen chair, while Laverne, wearing one of Lenny's Hawaiian shirts and apparently her own green Thursday panties, sat in his lap with his arms around her torso. And kneeling before them was Squiggy, in Laverne's old softball jersey and shorts, with his own Pittsburgh Pirates hat. He appeared to be painting Laverne's toenails.

Under the circumstances, Shirley thought her scream was warranted.


	2. Comfort Zone

Shirley assumed that Squiggy's "Oh, shit!" was a reaction to her scream and/or arrival, but then he added, "You got real fat, Shirl."

"Don't make me kick you and smear the polish," Laverne threatened, even as Squiggy continued to hold her right calf.

"Um, hi, Shirley, nice to see ya," Lenny said, looking like he was trying to hide behind the woman in his lap.

"I, I, I can go find a hotel and call you tomorrow, Laverne," Shirley said, although she didn't relish the idea of wandering the streets of Los Angeles in her drained and expectant condition.

"Don't be stupid," Laverne said and then gestured at the boys to let go of her, which they did. Then she got to her feet and hobbled into the living room, with her toes pointed upward. "You're stayin', they're goin'."

Lenny got to his feet as Squiggy put the cap back on the nail polish bottle. "Yeah, we was just, um."

Squiggy stood up and said, "We was just leaving."

The boys came over to the front doorway that Shirley had stepped out of. 

Lenny said, "Welcome back, Shirl."

Then Squiggy said something in German.

She'd picked up what she could of the language while in Berlin but not enough to follow his version of his grandfather's Milwaukee-tinged dialect. She risked saying, "Danke. Auf Wiedersehen," which got her through most situations in West Germany, including the guards' "Berühre nicht die Wand, Dame!" ("Don't touch the Wall, Lady!")

He nodded and both boys left.

In what would turn out to be one of the great understatements of 1968, Shirley said, "Laverne, we need to talk."

Laverne sighed and said, "Can most of it wait until this weekend? I assume from your suitcase that you're planning to stay awhile."

"Yes, if that's all right."

"Of course, this is still your home, when you want it."

Shirley felt like crying, and that wasn't just the pregnancy hormones. "Thanks, Vernie," she said softly.

Laverne hobbled all the way over and wrapped Shirley in a hug. Luckily, Squiggy hadn't done her fingernails. "Come on upstairs." She let go and grabbed the suitcase. She led the way, although she had to go slow because of the heavy bag and her toenails. That was fine with Shirley, who was no longer the lithe and speedy Miss Feeney. "So," Laverne said, "you should know I got rid of our old beds and got a California king. You can have it while you're here, if you don't mind the stairs, since it's got the bathroom right there. And I can take the couch, unless you want to share with me."

"It should be big enough, even though I'm so fat."

"Don't mind Squiggy, he's just, you know."

"Squiggy."

"Yeah. And trust me, it's big enough." Shirley half expected her to talk about sharing it with Lenny and/or Squiggy, but Laverne chuckled and said, "I shared it with Squendelyn last week."

"Squiggy's little sister?"

"Yeah, she was visiting from Jersey. Her marriage to Arnie is on the rocks." Then Laverne looked self-conscious, probably because she guessed that Shirley traveling alone halfway around the world in her third trimester did not bode well for the Meeney marriage.

"Well, I hope you and Squen had a good visit."

Laverne laughed again, but more of a snort this time. "I showed her the Shirley Shimmy. When I introduced her to Chuck, she developed an immediate crush."

"Your weird coworker?"

"Yeah. And I guess the Shimmy worked because I only had to share the bed with her the first night."

Shirley bit her tongue, although she wanted to call Squendelyn a floozy. Whatever was going on with Laverne and the boys, Shirley didn't want to be too judgmental, at least until she had all the facts.

Laverne hadn't made any other major changes in the bedroom or the bathroom, which Laverne let Shirley have first. This was very comforting after such a long day of travel.

When Shirley emerged, fresh and clean, in her long white maternity nightgown, Laverne had changed into old p.j.s. "It's only 7:30. Are you going to sleep, too?"

"Yeah, I haven't gotten much sleep lately." Laverne blushed.

Shirley again bit her tongue. "Can I have the right side? That's the side my bed was before."

"Whatever you want. I'm flexible."

Laverne was making it really difficult for Shirley to hold back, but she didn't want to spoil the first night of her return, especially when all seemed forgiven. She got into the side of the bed furthest from the door and turned her back to it. "Sleeping on my side is easiest right now, although I haven't been sleeping great lately either."

Laverne crawled into the other side of the bed. "I am so sorry about that phone call, Shirl. I completely spaced on the time difference."

"It doesn't matter now, Vernie. And I'm sorry, too."

"So, um, I guess it's gonna be weird for you to not sleep with Walter tonight."

Shirley wondered if Laverne had gotten used to sleeping with Lenny and/or Squiggy, but she said, "Yes. He, um, would sometimes spoon me when we slept."

"You want me to spoon you?"

Shirley couldn't tell if Laverne was joking, especially since she couldn't see her friend's face. Something made her give the honest answer: "Yes."

A tan arm snaked around Shirley's belly. Then Laverne said, "Wow, Shirl, you're gonna be a mother!" Like the reality of it had just hit her.

"Yes, soon." She wanted to tell Laverne how soon, but her honesty had limits that night, and she'd promised to not have any serious talks until the weekend.

"You'll be a good mom. Better than Barb."

"Well, thanks."

"You're so soft, Shirl," Laverne yawned. "Like a giant pillow."

"Danke."

Laverne chuckled again. "What was Squiggy saying at the door?"

"I have no idea."

Laverne laughed harder and Shirley joined in, not having laughed this hard in months, and feeling the vibrations of Laverne's laughter as well as her own.

"Is this safe for the baby?" Laverne suddenly fretted.

"Maybe the baby is laughing, too."

"Maybe. Goodnight, Shirl."

"Goodnight, Vernie."

Laverne's soft snores in her ear soon lulled the far from prodigal roommate to sleep.


	3. The Friend Zone

Shirley slept long and contentedly in Laverne's arms. Even the baby slept peacefully for a change.

Shirley didn't exactly wake up alone, since she had her bundle of joy inside her, but by the time she opened her drowsy eyes, Laverne had apparently gone downstairs. Shirley yawned and got out of bed. Shirley went over to the closed door and was about to open it and head down, when she thought she heard voices. So she quietly opened the door just a crack and started eavesdropping.

First came Lenny's voice, half whiny, half defiant. "Laverne, you've got to tell her everything."

"There's a lot of 'everything,' Len. I don't think she even got my letter telling her you boys moved in here after the quake."

"Ok, but you need to talk to her, especially if she's staying with you."

"I'll tell her the good stuff. The bad stuff can wait until after she has the baby."

"Am I good stuff?"

"Honey, you're the best stuff!"

Shirley blushed at the sound of very enthusiastic kissing.

"You're gonna make me late for work."

"So?"

"You lazy long-hair, some people still have to do the nine-to-five gig, especially when their boyfriends lured them away to baseball games just yesterday."

"You had fun though, didn't you?"

"Yes, at the game and after, but we can't make a habit of that. Especially while Shirley's staying here."

Lenny put on his Mr. Smooth voice and said, "Well, luckily my bachelor pad is repaired and ready for action."

"Not tonight, Romeo. I've got to talk to Shirley."

"Then I guess I shouldn't spill the beads about nothin' to her today."

"Right, but I do want you to help her while I'm work."

"I'm not gonna have to drive her to the eternity ward, am I?"

"Nah, that should be a month away. But I do want you to look after her."

"Aw, gee whiz, Laverne, I don't know nothin' about pregnant ladies."

"There's nothin' to it at this stage. She's mostly gonna wanna eat and sleep, especially with her jet lag."

"So I should feed her and sing lullabies to her stomach?"

"Yeah, if she wants, but don't cook anything too weird."

"Aah, pregnant ladies are like goats. They'll eat anything. That part I know."

"Still check with her first."

"OK. I love you, Darlin'."

"Love ya, too, Babe, but gotta go!"

The sound of Laverne dashing out the front door. Shirley gently closed the bedroom door.

As she freshened up in the bathroom and then put on her red & black plaid maternity dress, she thought about what she'd heard. She knew about the earthquake, because it was major enough to make the news even in Europe, but other than a call from Laverne right after, saying that she was fine, Shirley knew nothing about its impact on this building or its residents. Apparently the boys' apartment was damaged and then repaired, so they'd lived with Laverne for awhile and this presumably led to romantic entanglement. The quake couldn't be the "bad stuff," so what was?

If Shirley couldn't get it out of Lenny, she'd go ask Carmine. As a very expectant wife, she obviously wouldn't flirt with her ex-boyfriend, even if the last she heard (from Laverne, not Carmine of course) was that the woman he "fell in love with" was long gone, and since then there'd been Suzy and other temporary girlfriends. But she could still get secrets out of him, without shimmying or other wiles.

First though, she'd make sure Lenny didn't serve her anything too bizarre for breakfast. She headed down to the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant. "Good morning, Lenny."

Lenny turned from the stove and said, "Hey, Shirl, what do you like in your oatmeal?"

"Maple and brown sugar please," she said, relieved.

"Uh, we're out of maple syrup. We've got Bosco."

"How about just butter?"

"We're kinda low on that."

"Fresh fruit?"

"I can get you oranges off the tree."

"If it's not too much trouble."

"Nah, no problem."

She took over the stirring as he went out to the tree in the yard, which was one of many things she'd missed about California.

"Skins or no skins?" he asked when he returned with a half dozen oranges.

"Um, peeled please. Thank you."

"You got it." He whistled "Green Tambourine" by the Lemon Pipers while he peeled the orange skins.

She poured the oatmeal into two bowls and then looked at his long blond hair (now daisy-less), love beads, embroidered white peasant shirt, brown Nehru jacket, multi-colored spiral bell-bottoms, and tan sandals. "So you're some sort of hippie musician now?"

As he carefully lowered the orange slices into the bowls, he shrugged and said, "I guess. I mean, I'm not that 'hip' and I am almost thirty, so not everyone trusts me. But I relate to a lot of today's scene."

She went and got the spoons. "And you're not in STAB anymore?"

"Nah, that was always more Squiggy's thing, and my thing is my own talent, such as it is."

"You're a very good singer and musician, Leonard." She wouldn't mind if he played some of his songs later, although not at her stomach.

"Nahhh! Yeah?"

"Yeah. You know you are."

"I guess. Anyway, I'm doin' all right so far, and money ain't everything, right?"

"Right," she said, thinking of how her ambition to marry a professional man and move into the middle class, like her mother always wanted for her, hadn't led to happiness. She knew Mama was not going to be happy to hear that Shirley had abandoned her husband, but she would go see her mother in San Diego, after the baby was born.

She waited until they had a few bites of oranges & oatmeal (not bad really, and it was true her palate had changed with pregnancy), before she girlishly asked, "So are you and Laverne going steady?"

He blushed like he would've if she'd caught him with Laverne willingly in his lap in 1953 and stammered, "We, we, well, you see, she'll tell you later!"

"Come on, Len," she coaxed, "I know something's going on and I know how crazy you've always been about her."

Summoning his dignity, despite a bit of oatmeal on his still beardless chin, Lenny said, "We have a commitment and that's all I'm gonna say right now."

"If you don't tell me, I'll just go up and ask Carmine."

"You're gonna go all the way to New York just to gossip with Carmine?"

"New York?"

"Oh, shit, I mean, wow, you really are out of the loop, aren't ya?"

"I guess so," she said quietly, leaning back in her chair.

"OK, I can tell you the Carmine part because that has almost nothin' to do with the rest of us. He got a chance to audition for a movie being filmed there, which didn't work out, but he's got a part off-Broadway. Some musical called _Hairball_ or somethin'."

"Wonderful."

"He was gonna say goodbye to you before he left, because we were all here when Laverne called you a month ago, but, um, you hung up on her."

"I am so sorry about that."

He nodded. "Laverne explained to me this morning, the time difference."

"Yes. And you can't tell me why she was calling, can you?"

"That's her secret and it's not easy for her to talk about, so, defiantly no."

"So it's not about you?"

"Not that part. See, Shirl, Laverne's been through some rough times since you've been gone, and me and Squiggy have tried to be there for her, but there's some stuff we couldn't fix."

"Oh, Len." She felt like crying and it looked like he might as well.

"Don't cry, Shirl! You'll make me misty, too."

"I'm such a bad friend!" she sobbed.

"No, no, you're great! But you're really her only close female friend with Mrs. Babish gone, 'cause Rhonda don't count, although the girls are close acquaintances now."

"So this isn't stuff she can talk to Rhonda about?"

"Not really. I mean, the thing with Mike...."

"Mike? The fashion photographer she met when she and I were in the Bardwell's window?"

He sighed. "OK, I'm gonna tell you this part, because you know she still won't even talk about Randy unless you twist her arms."

"Did something happen to Mike?"

Now he wept. They both cried as he told her of the bizarre death of Laverne's last serious boyfriend, well, last before Lenny. (She wasn't sure where Squiggy fit in, and she decided not to ask.) Mike was working when the quake struck and he was hit by falling lighting equipment. Lenny had to take Laverne to identify the body because Mike's family all lived back in Jacksonville, Illinois.

Shirley and Lenny couldn't finish the oatmeal, so he put it in the fridge and offered to reheat it later.

"You should rest, Shirl. You've been through a lot, too, huh?"

She nodded and went over to the couch. She lay down on her side.

He got Laverne's acoustic guitar and asked, "You want me to play you a lullaby?"

"How about something by the Beatles instead?"

The four of them loved the Beatles, even though they'd been in their mid 20s four years ago, when they watched _Ed Sullivan_ together on the girls' old couch in Milwaukee, on the black & white set that Laverne won dancing with Richie Cunningham. Lenny nodded and said, "I can do that."

He didn't sing to her stomach but instead took the comfy chair closest to the front door. He strummed and then sang-shouted, "Well, shake it up, Baby, now!"

"Um, something gentler, Len."

"Gentler, huh?" He strummed again and then crooned in his deep "Lenny Lennon" voice, as Laverne called it, "When I wake up early in the morning/ Lift my head, I'm still yawning/ When I'm in the middle of a dream/ Stay in bed, float up stream...." She closed her eyes and imagined Laverne's arms wrapped around her and her bundle, as Lenny's voice wove in and out of her drowsy head. "...Please don't spoil my day, I'm miles away, and after all, I'm only sleeping...." Drifting on a life raft built of friendship, drifting into peaceful dreams of long ago.


	4. Drop Zone

"...So after Laverne came home early, she let Squiggy wear her old softball uniform, and he already had the Pirates hat. And you know him, he don't mind being booed."

"Mm hm." Shirley kept stirring the spaghetti noodles, finding Lenny's rambling story comforting, even if it didn't answer her many questions.

"And then I gave her a lay." She looked at him in surprise for his frankness, but he didn't notice because he was restringing Laverne's guitar. "And Squiggy got her some grass." Shirley was again startled, since if anyone was going to give Laverne reefer after the London's Bridges debacle, she would've expected it to be Lenny. But before she could fully react, Lenny continued, "And she made a skirt and I loaned her my favorite Hawaiian shirt, and she went as a hula girl."

Shirley realized that, just because Laverne had secrets, it didn't mean that every part of her life was wild now. She asked, "And what did you wear?"

"Well, we were running out of time before the game, so I just went as I was and I was gonna pay full admission, but they let me in free anyway, maybe because I was with two people in costume."

She bit her tongue. Lenny was still such an innocent, unaware of how people saw him, even now.

"Hi, Honeys, I'm home."

Shirley looked up at the playful greeting, noting the plural, and wondered if it had started when Laverne got involved with Lenny and apparently Squiggy. Yes, Laverne and the boys could've attended Costume Day at Dodger Stadium as just friends, but that didn't explain how Squiggy had ended up painting Laverne's toenails after she removed the lei and grass skirt.

Lenny's face lit up and he set aside Laverne's guitar, then jumped up from his kitchen chair and bounded over to Laverne. He swept her into a very warm embrace, which made her laugh but also give him a big kiss.

Shirley watched them wistfully. She had never greeted Walter like this, never wanted to greet him like this. As if he'd been gone for days or weeks instead of hours. She'd told herself that she and Walter had a whirlwind romance, but he was and had remained a stranger. They had none of the passion, affection, and fun that Lenny and Laverne seemed to have. She sighed and checked the sauce.

She heard Laverne scold, "What are you doin' makin' her cook?"

"No, she wanted to make dinner for you."

Their voices lowered but she thought she heard Laverne's "How is she?" and Lenny's "Fine. She slept a lot and we ate oatmeal and I sang her some Beatles. And I didn't tell her nothin'."

His double negative kept him from being a liar. Mike's death was not nothing. But Shirley had seen Laverne through the aftermath of Randy Carpenter's death and she knew that she couldn't rush her friend into talking about the loss of Mike. Still, she couldn't help wondering if Laverne's grief had contributed to the recent romantic entanglement.

Lenny sweetly but briefly kissed Laverne goodbye and then called from the doorway, "Goodnight, Shirl. See ya tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Len. And thank you."

He shrugged. "What are friends for?"

After he exited, Laverne closed the door behind him and came over to the kitchen. "You really don't have to cook, you know."

"It's just spaghetti."

"Well, thank you."

They didn't talk about anything serious before and during dinner, just Shirley's travels and Laverne's job. Laverne envied Shirley seeing Europe, when the furthest away Laverne had gone was the disastrous trip to Near Mexico. As for Laverne's job at the aerospace company, she made good money, enough that she could pay the rent alone, but she was no more emotionally invested than she'd been in bottle-capping, gift-wrapping, waiting tables, or any other employment she'd had in the past decade.

Shirley didn't know what her own career path would be now. She had planned to be a homemaker, but if she had really left Walter for good, which she still wasn't sure about, then she'd have to figure out something else. Walter would probably give her alimony and child support, but Shirley didn't know if that would cover everything. What she most wanted was to stay with Laverne and raise the baby here, but it was too soon to ask for that.

As Shirley washed the dishes, Laverne dried and talked about yesterday's Dodgers vs. Mets game, and how her New York loyalties were divided. Meanwhile fans on both sides booed and threw concessions at Squiggy every time he'd yell something like, "Aaah, they're all bums!"

"It was like that scene in the _Wizard of Oz_ where the Scarecrow tricks the apple trees into throwing their apples for Dorothy to eat."

"He was a good Scarecrow," Shirley admitted.

One of Shirley's more successful attempts to put on a children's play was a couple years ago. Shirley was Dorothy of course and Squiggy, who after all was their class valedictorian on a technicality, was the Scarecrow. She hadn't been sure how to cast the Lion and Tin Man, because she could see qualities of bravery and warm-heartedness in both Laverne and Lenny. But Laverne wanted to show off her legs in silver tights, and Lenny agreed to wear the heavy fake fur suit.

(Carmine was the Wizard and choreographer. Rhonda was of course Glinda. Frank and Edna had dual roles, as Uncle Henry and Aunt Em, and as the Narrator and the Wicked Witch. Local children played the Munchkins and other small roles.)

Laverne snorted. "Yeah, not as dumb as he looks."

She didn't exactly sound like she was madly in love with Squiggy. Whatever was going on with the two of them, Laverne clearly had gone into it with her cynical green eyes wide open.

"And what did Lenny do when people were throwing food?"

"Ducked, pleaded for peace, and whined about flying hot dogs and pretzels getting mustard on his Nehru jacket."

Shirley nodded. She'd noticed the dark yellow smears on Lenny's jacket but hadn't wanted to ask. And she now noticed the fondness in Laverne's voice when she talked about Lenny. It was a fondness that had been there for almost a decade, maybe since the "Lone Wolf" embroidery, but now with an extra layer because Lenny was Laverne's whatever he was.

"Vernie, can we talk about you and the boys now?"

Laverne nodded and hung up the dish towel. They both headed to the couch and Shirley moved aside the blanket that Lenny had covered her with when she was napping.

"Lenny said you two have a commitment."

"He told you everything?"

"No, just that." Shirley wasn't going to reveal what she'd overheard.

"Well, yeah, he's my boyfriend, my old man as the hippies say, and I'm his old lady, but I don't like those terms, because they sound like parents."

"And he's your lover?"

"Well, yeah, but we're not exclusive. I'm with Squiggy, too, as you may've suspected." Laverne looked down at the seven red-white-and-blue Dodger-colored nails in her open-toed heels. "As for Lenny's love life, it's complicated."

"Who's he involved with beside you?"

The front door banged open. "Hello!"


	5. War Zone

"Hello! How long are you staying, Shirl?" Leave it to Squiggy to address one of the elephants in the room with no hesitation.

"As long as she wants. Now scram."

"In a memento. The reason I ask is, I want to throw her a baby shower and I need to know how soon I have to schedule it."

Shirley could've pointed out that that traditionally was the duty of a female friend of the mother-to-be, but clearly this menage did not follow strict sex roles. Instead, she said, "That's very sweet of you, Squiggy, but it's not necessary."

She was about to explain that the wife of one of Walter's friends had thrown her a baby shower a couple months ago and she was thinking of having Walter ship everything from Berlin, when Laverne said, "Yeah, she can have the stuff I won."

"Oh, right from the Plout Scam."

"Yeah, Pop put it all in storage for his future grandson, but since that ain't happening any time soon...."

"Hey, you know Lenny's squirmatozoa is at your Disposall any time you want it. Or if you think a black-haired kid would look more Italian...."

"Thanks, I know where to find you. Anyway, there's no hurry, since she's not due for another month."

Squiggy shook his head. "It's been almost eight months since she had to get married. The stork could drop by any day now."

Shirley blushed and Laverne looked at her in amazement.

"Anyway, I'll let you two dames catch up some more. Now that I don't have to send out shower invitations to everyone in the West Coast edition of my little black book, I've got shower plans with Lenny." It was this last part that was said with a leer, and Shirley had the feeling Lenny was not simply going to hose his roommate down in the process he once described to the actor Charles Grodin.

She waited until Squiggy closed the door behind him before she asked Laverne, "Are the boys romantically involved?"

"I guess you could call it that. They love each other but they're not in love. And it's physical and has been since they were seventeen."

"Oh." Shirley was surprised but somehow not shocked. The boys had always been inseparable, far more than her and Laverne. And while she'd never imagined them kissing, or more, somehow it made perfect sense that they would express their closeness in this way. "But they like women, too?"

"Oh, yeah!" The way Laverne said it, with both enthusiasm and weariness, suggested that the boys showed that liking to her on a regular basis. Then Laverne blushed and asked, "Do you think of me as a slu— a floozy now?"

Shirley patted her friend's hand and said, "Oh, Vernie, it's not what I was raised to look for, but you all know and love each other, and you seem happy."

"We are."

It made sense that Lenny was happy. He had wanted Laverne for a long time, and now not only did he have her, but it was in such a way that Squiggy would not feel threatened and competitive, like he had with Karen a year or so ago. And Laverne seemed to accept Lenny's arrangement with Squiggy, which most girls wouldn't.

Squiggy was presumably happy because, well, to put it crudely, Laverne put out. Not that it was just sex for them, they were too good friends for that, but Shirley instinctively knew that they would have a cruder, pricklier relationship. Laverne had never had cause to call Squiggy, as she sometimes called Lenny, a real sweet guy.

She thought of Squiggy's offer to throw her a baby shower and wondered if it came with an ulterior motive. "Squiggy still has his little black book?"

Laverne laughed. "He still dates in the sense of having a girl, usually a client, on his arm, like to Hollywood parties and premieres, but it's just for show. Me and Lenny keep him satisfied." Her tone was proud and maybe a little smug.

"Do you two ever go out in public, as a couple?"

Laverne frowned. "How can we? I just started telling people I'm dating Lenny."

"So nobody else knows about your, um, throuple?" Shirley said, making up the word on the spot.

Laverne snorted and then shook her head. "Well, I told Carmine before he left for New York. Um, did Lenny tell you that part?"

"Just that Carmine's on off-Broadway."

"Yeah, and Squiggy told Rhonda, who's seen it all, so that's not too big a deal, and she was bound to notice, living in the same building. But for everyone else, well, it's a big enough step to tell them about Lenny, when everyone knows he's been after me for years and I kept insisting I didn't think of him that way."

"I was never sure," Shirley admitted. "You seemed to have such mixed feelings about him, and he wasn't like any of the men you dated."

"Well, he's pretty unique. Not as unique as Squiggy of course."

Both girls laughed.

"What does your father think about Lenny being your boyfriend?" Shirley was sure that would be the term to use to Mr. DeFazio, the term she'd use herself if and when the subject came up. She would definitely never refer to Lenny and Laverne as lovers.

"Pop has always liked Lenny more than Squiggy. I mean, he never paid Lenny to never ask me out. And at this point, well, he still wants a grandson, and half-Polish would be OK."

"Vernie, you're not going to...?"

"It's only been a month since I got with them! And we use three forms of birth control."

"Three?"

"Yeah, condoms with Squiggy in case he changes his mind about his arm-candy, and then I'm transitioning from the diaphragm to the Pill."

"I see."

"And then even if me and Lenny get married in a year or two, well, where does that leave Squiggy? Still living across the hall?"

"Do you want to marry Lenny?"

Laverne sighed. "Not yet, it's too soon, even though I've known him since I believed in the Tooth Fairy. And now that he's a hippie, he thinks we knew each other from a previous life."

"You haven't known him as a boyfriend very long."

"Yeah, it's not a whirlwind thing, like me and Sal Malina, or you and Walt—" Laverne suddenly grabbed Shirley's arm. "Shirl, was Squiggy right?"

Shirley blushed again and nodded.

"But you always wanted to wait for your wedding night!"

"So I was a month early."

"It happened your first time? You poor kid!"

"Yeah. And I knew it immediately, don't ask me how."

"Like you could feel his squirmatozoa hitting your Ovaltine." Laverne's Squiggy imitation was of course dead on.

Shirley giggled and then sighed. "My body felt different afterwards."

"It wasn't just, um, a climax?"

Looking at her own unpainted toenails, Shirley admitted, "I've never had one with Walter."

"Not even during a good makeout?"

"No, only with Carmine." The times she voe-dee-oed.

"Oh, Shirl!" Laverne gave her a sideways hug.

Trying not to cry, Shirley said into Laverne's shoulder, "I know you love sex, but maybe Carmine was right and I am frigid."

"He was just going for cheap laughs when he was doing stand-up. If he made you come from 'cruising the side-streets of Smut City,' he knows damn well that you've got your Roxy LaTour side. And maybe Walter just isn't very good at voe-dee-oh-doe."

"So you think it's not me?"

"You won't know until you've been with more guys. Uh, not any time soon obviously."

Shirley laughed, straightened up, and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. "I think it can wait."

Laverne let go and said, "Shirl, sex is meant to feel good, real good. And if it doesn't, then you don't have to keep tryin', at least not with that person."

"Is it usually good for you, Vernie?"

Laverne looked away. "Yeah, usually."

"Laverne, did something happen to you while I was away?"

"Yeah, lots of things. Like faking a pregnancy to help Sgt. Alvinia Plout win a bunch of baby supplies."

Shirley definitely wanted to hear more about that, including how the supplies had ended up in Frank DeFazio's storage unit, but she needed to continue the serious conversation while Laverne was open to it. "I mean, did something bad happen with a man?"

"I'm not gonna talk about that. Not now."

"OK," Shirley said softly, "whenever you're ready, Vernie. I'm here."

"Thanks, Shirl. And I mean it, you can stay as long as you need to. And not just because Walter's a bad lay."

Shirley giggled again, although she felt guilty about it. "Thank you. But, well, won't I be in the way, when you've got this thing with the boys?"

"You are always gonna be my best friend, Shirl. Don't you forget that!" Laverne said fiercely and warmly.

"Even when we don't really talk for months?"

Laverne chuckled. "Part of me wanted to yell at you when you showed up out of the blue."

"I did try to call, but you never answered."

"Sorry. Sometimes I probably wasn't home and sometimes I might've had the phone off the hook for privacy." Now Laverne blushed a little.

"Isn't it going to cramp your style having a pregnant woman and soon a baby around?"

"Shirl, this is Lenny and Squiggy we're talkin' about. They know me. I'm not pretending to pass off takeout chicken as my own recipe, or claiming to be a 'beverage control engineer.' They will adapt to the new reality, just like you will."

"And they do have a swingin' bachelor pad across the hall."

Laverne laughed. "Yeah. But if you need me to babysit when you've got a hot date with some new guy, let me know."

"I think that's at least a few weeks off."

Now both girls laughed.

Then Laverne frowned. "So how close are you to your due date?"

"Maybe a week."

Laverne started yelling at Shirley for her idiocy in traveling right now, and it was like music to Shirley's ears.


	6. Loading Zone

Shirley woke up on Saturday disappointed, and yet relieved as usual, that Walter was spooning her without a morning erection. He wasn't attracted to her now that she was so fat, although he claimed it was medically unsound to have intercourse in the last trimester. As for other pleasures, he informed her that any female orgasm outside of intercourse was a sign of immaturity. And so she hadn't reached climax in almost a year, when she last necked with Carmine and let him feel her up above the waist.

She was surprised to feel one of Walter's hands move up to gently cup her left breast. "Mmm, that's nice," she murmured.

"Shirley?" said a sleepy voice that sounded a lot more like Laverne than Walter.

Shirley opened her eyes to the Burbank bedroom she knew so well and she whispered, "Laverne?"

The Brooklyn girl yanked her hands away like they were on fire. "Oh, Jesus, Shirl, I thought you were Squiggy!"

"Wow, I've never been mistaken for him before."

"I was asleep and me and Squiggy take turns being the little spoon, Lenny's always the big spoon of course, and you're Squiggy's size, and I know you're not shaped like Squiggy, but I was asleep, and I swear I wasn't trying to feel you up!"

Shirley rolled over onto her back and put her hand on Laverne's shoulder. "Vernie, it's OK. You didn't mean to. I know you're not like that."

"Well, yeah, I'm not Icky Hector. I don't just grab without asking."

Shirley took a moment to register that Laverne didn't take "not like that" to mean a girl who touched other girls' breasts. And then she leaned over and kissed Laverne on the mouth, without asking.

It wasn't even their first kiss, although usually she only kissed Laverne if they were dressed as nursery rhyme characters and/or possibly plummeting to the ground. Usually, Laverne reacted as if she didn't want Shirley to kiss her, but this time she wrapped one arm around Shirley's back, while the other hand wove into the auburn bob. And she kissed back with soft but determined lips and that sassy tongue.

Shirley felt stirrings that frightened her, so she gently moved her head away. "I'm sorry, Vernie," she whispered, hoping she hadn't ruined everything.

"For what? The bad timing?"

Shirley hadn't even thought of that, but she now realized the timing could hardly have been worse. She had just left Walter a couple days ago, and even if their separation turned out to be permanent, she still should not be kissing someone else until she'd talked to him about getting a divorce. Not to mention that next week she would make him a father. She wasn't even sure if her jet lag had worn off.

Meanwhile, Laverne was clearly still sorting out her involvement with Lenny and Squiggy. It was very selfish of Shirley to even be here, let alone to try to start a romance with her dearest friend, who after all had tragically lost a boyfriend just two months ago (when she wasn't completely healed from Randy after six years).

"Yes, not that there would be a right time."

"Oh, I don't know about that. But can we postpone talking about this at least until after you recover from childbirth?"

It seemed there were a lot of topics they were postponing until then, although they'd admittedly covered some big ones already. Shirley nodded but couldn't help saying, "Especially since I'm so fat."

"Enough of the 'fat' crap. You're beautiful and not just in a carrying-a-new-life kind of way."

Shirley admitted, "Well, my boobs are bigger now."

Laverne's olive cheeks turned pink. She got out of bed and said, "OK, Roxy, I'm sleepin' on the couch for the next few weeks."

Shirley giggled, making Laverne shake her head and stomp into the bathroom. Shirley wondered if she should've returned the compliments, told Laverne how beautiful and sexy she was. But she'd been saying that for years, as a friend, and if Laverne didn't know by now, well, Shirley would have to convince her, in a few weeks.

First, she would learn to adjust to what being roommates again meant for them now.

....

An hour later, Shirley was making breakfast while Laverne was looking through her Beatles songbook, having promised to "sing to you like Lenny did yesterday." To distract her, Shirley asked, "So if Carmine's moved to New York, what's going on with his apartment?"

"Well, it's only been a month and Squiggy is building manager. But, well, me and the boys have talked about it, and we wanna make sure that anyone who moves in is OK with our, um, set-up."

"Like Rhonda is?"

"Yeah. Especially since everything's in, um, excuse his French, what Squig calls 'fuck flux.' "

Shirley blushed but understood. "He does have a way of putting things, doesn't he?"

Laverne snorted. "Yeah. So we'll look for a new tenant I guess this summer, but right now we're seeing how spring goes."

"What if I put in a rental application?"

"You?"

"Yes, Sonny's old place is smaller than this apartment and I could probably afford the rent, especially if I get alimony and child support from Walter."

Laverne pouted. "You don't wanna live with me no more?"

"Oh, Vernie, of course I do, but maybe you need to not have all your, um, romantic prospects crowding in on you."

Laverne nodded and sighed. "Well, let's at least wait until after the baby's born. Which might be next week, right?"

"I think so."

"I'll call Pop tomorrow and we can have the boys get the baby stuff out of storage in their truck."

"Sounds like a plan." Laverne had explained by now exactly what the Plout Scam was and how she had ended up with the winnings. Shirley was dubious but desperate, and it was better than asking Walter to ship everything.

Laverne strummed her guitar and burst into, "What would you think if I sang out of tune?"

Shirley was spared a reply by the call of "Hi-ho! It's Rhonda!"

Shirley looked over at the Dutch door and said, "Hi, Rhonda," as if she'd seen her just yesterday instead of six months ago.

But Rhonda came over and gave her a big hug and exclaimed, "Oh, the little mother!" She let go and said, "You're glowing!"

Shirley was tempted to say, "Well, I did get felt up and well kissed this morning," but she just said, "Thank you."

Then Rhonda looked her up and down and nodded. "I think I can find you something."

"Something?"

"For the boys' dinner party tonight. Squiggy figured you hadn't packed anything festive, but Rhonda can get you a lovely frock."

"Uh, thank you, Rhonda, but we're not exactly the same size." Now more than ever.

Rhonda laughed and said, "Silly, I'll borrow it from the costume department at the studio I'm working at this week."

Laverne set aside her guitar and came over, asking, "What dinner party?", which was going to be Shirley's next question.

"Oh, I'm sure you're invited, Laverne. It's a Welcome Back, Shirley, and Congratulations on Your Blessed Event party, according to the invitation I got."

"That's going to be some banner," Shirley said to Laverne, who nodded.

"I told Squiggy that I have a big premiere to go to at eight, so he said he'd make it six o'clock. And he said 'time is of the Essex' anyway, because Shirley is so close to her due date."

"Why was I the last to know?" Laverne asked, and Shirley gave her an apologetic look.

"Oh, Lenny still thinks Shirley waited until her wedding night, but he's kind of innocent. Well, in some ways." She gave Laverne a knowing wink. "Rhonda must dash if I'm going to find something in Wardrobe. Any color preferences?"

"She likes black," Laverne said.

Rhonda nodded. "Just like Squiggy," and quickly exited on her lavender kitten heels, giving them a fluttering-fingered wave goodbye.

The roommates looked at each other and Shirley said, "Well, it seems we have plans tonight."

Laverne shook her head. "If he invites the Black Book Brigade, he's gonna regret it."

Shirley snorted, which made Laverne laugh.


	7. Rezoning

"Wow, Laverne, you look stunning!"

"So do you, Len."

She wasn't kidding. Lenny was wearing an all-white tuxedo, like the Beatles in _Magical Mystery Tour._ This time, his flower was a red carnation in his lapel. Shirley couldn't help thinking that the outfit was a poor choice considering what a messy eater Lenny was, but she couldn't deny he looked surprisingly dashing.

As for Laverne, she was wearing a long shimmering green dress that made Shirley think of mermaids. It had a slit up the side and offered a hint of cleavage, but it was modest by Laverne standards.

"Thanks, Darlin'." He came closer and gently cupped Laverne's chin in one hand. She gave him a soft kiss, which he of course returned.

Shirley ached with longing and jealousy, but she didn't know if it was that she wanted a love like this or that she wished she was the one kissing Laverne. At the same time she was genuinely happy for them and hoped things worked out, whether or not Squiggy was a part of it.

When the kiss ended, Lenny said, "Hi, Shirl, you look nice, too."

"Thanks, Lenny," she said, even though she knew she looked ridiculous. Rhonda was not able to find her anything in black in her far-from-five size. So Rhonda brought home a loose-fitting, feathered pink minidress that made Shirley look like a strange bird, or a ball of cotton candy.

"Well, it's festive," Laverne had remarked.

Shirley was glad she wasn't going out in public like this. And it was a relief to now notice that the boys' table was set for just six, not that it was a very big table. They probably only invited their three female neighbors (Lenny had dropped off the girls' invitations at noon), and then Rhonda would of course bring a date, particularly if she was going to a premiere later.

Squiggy emerged from the door that led to the bathroom and the low tunnel that connected to the girls' apartment. He was dressed like a conductor, that is with white tie and black tails, as well as a blue & white striped cloth train conductor's cap. He had a big roll of butcher paper under one arm and a box of push-pins in the other hand, so he didn't wave as he said, "Hi, Girls. Len, can you hang up the banner since you're tallest?"

"Of course, Squig," Lenny said and dragged a chair over to the purple wall opposite the bunk beds.

Shirley could see the plastered web of cracks in the wall, much more obvious than in Laverne's apartment. Laverne had told her that Carmine's place had been hit heavily, too, but luckily he was doing a weeks-long gig in Vegas. Shirley thought of how the quake had shaken everything up but the survivors went on, despite the aftershocks.

Lenny took off his white tuxedo jacket and draped it over the chair, presumably for greater mobility. Shirley hoped the tails wouldn't get dirty, although it looked like someone, probably Lenny, had swept the floor. Laverne had told her that the boys were cleaner and neater than before Shirley left. Shirley doubted this was due to Laverne's good influence, since Laverne was as sloppy as ever.

Lenny got on the chair and Squiggy handed up the paper roll and half a dozen push-pins, which Lenny put between his lips. Shirley thought this was literally an accident waiting to happen, particularly given Lenny's clumsiness. Little as she was looking forward to this dinner party, she'd hate for it to be cancelled for a trip to the hospital. Then again, Lenny had survived repeated falls off the much higher roof of their old apartment building in Milwaukee, so she'd try not to worry too much.

Squiggy stepped back, ostensibly so he could direct the sign hanging. He did say, "Higher," "Lower," and other helpful orders that Lenny obeyed, but he also leered and made silent kissy-kissy faces, his hands curling as if eager to squeeze Lenny's buns.

Laverne drifted over to Squiggy's side and, although she said encouraging things like, "Looks good, Len" and "Yeah, just like that," Shirley had the feeling that Laverne's eyes were aimed a lot lower than the banner.

Even Shirley, who never thought of Lenny that way (except for one disturbing dream a year ago, where Squiggy was her rich husband and Lenny was her handsome, brooding chauffeur who took her to places she needed to be, in every sense), had to silently admit his tushie looked good in tight, white trousers. She wrenched her eyes upward as he moved the chair one last time, with only one unswallowed push-pin left.

Big, black, spiky letters spelled out (correctly) _WELCOME BACK, SHIRLEY, AND CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR BLESSED EVENT! ALSO, THANK YOU FOR AN AMAZING FIRST MONTH_. Lenny unrolled the last word and smoothed it out as if was the most important one in the whole world: _LAVERNE!_

"Awww, you old softy," Laverne said, playing with Squiggy's hair-worm.

"There ain't nothin soft about me, DeFazio," he said defiantly, although there was a shy Kosnowskian look about him, like a little boy who'd picked flowers off the cranky old neighbor's lawn and expected to be both yelled at and kissed on the cheek. Laverne nuzzled his neck and his dark eyes went out of focus a little, like a midnight sky clouding over. Then he cried, "You betwitching siren! Divert your eyes, Shirl!" and dipped Laverne into a big smooch. Laverne wrapped her arms around Squiggy's back and neck, returning the kiss with everything she had. Despite Squiggy's request, Shirley watched in fascination, but with none of the horror she would've felt years ago. After all, in her adulterous dream about Lenny, Squiggy had repeatedly made out with his secretary, Laverne.

She heard Lenny hop off the chair and he came over to block her view, his back to his now necking lovers. "I figured out something about your baby, Shirl."

She met Lenny's not-so-innocent blue eyes with her own. She had hoped to keep him from knowing that she had gotten married so quickly because she was probably pregnant. (It had been too early to see the obstetrician, and then she put that off for a couple months, so it would be plausible that she could've conceived on her honeymoon, even though Walter had been covered head to toe in bandages.) Lenny might've figured it out next week, but she'd planned to tell him and Mr. DeFazio (and her mother!) that the baby came early. "You did?"

"Yeah, you came back to America so your baby could run for president in forty or fifty years."

"Uh, Leonard, both Walter and I are American citizens, so our baby would be, too, whatever country it's born in."

"Oh, well, I'll still vote for him. Or her as the case may be."

Squiggy apparently had stopped dipping and making out with Laverne because he now said, "Women can't run the country. They're too emotional and Shirl's little girl would declare war on Russia when she's on the rag."

Shirley was about to suggest that her hypothetical daughter might've gone through menopause a half-century in the future, when Laverne said, "Don't listen to this guy. He's planning to vote for Nixon again!"

Squiggy came back into view and nodded. "Nixon's the one."

"I like McCarthy," Lenny said. "And then Bergen can be VP."

Laverne came over to lean against Lenny and said, "I want Bobby."

"You just like his Kennedy hair," Lenny taunted.

"Not just his hair."

"Hi-ho, it's Rhonda and Rhonda's date."

"Hello, Rhonda and Rhonda's date," the four of them said in the frightening synchronicity they sometimes effortlessly achieved.

Then Shirley had to keep her eyes from protruding like her stomach as she realized that Rhonda's date was just about the last person she would've expected.


	8. Twilight Zone

Shirley was used to seeing him on a black-and-white German television set, with subtitles, but she would know him anywhere. He was tall, dark, and handsome, and he looked a lot more natural in a tux than either Lenny or Squiggy.

"Everyone, this is Lyle Waggoner. Lyle, Everyone."

"Pleased to meet you all," the _Carol Burnett Show_ co-star said in his smooth, deep voice.

Squiggy went over and shook his hand. "It's an honor and a privet." Squiggy reached into his jacket pocket and took something out. "My card."

Mr. Waggoner took it and read aloud in his announcer voice, "Andrew Squiggman, founder and chief representative of the Squignowski Talent Agency of Burbank."

"STAB," Lenny said helpfully.

"Just in case you ever want new management of your rising career."

Mr. Waggoner nodded, said, "Thank you," and slipped the card into the right pocket of his black trousers.

"Well, now that everybody is here, please find your place cards and be seated."

Lenny smacked his own forehead and exclaimed, "I knew I forgot something!"

"It's fine, Len. I'm at the head of the table as host." Squiggy took the seat furthest from the open front door, his back to the small kitchen, which was sending out a faint, unidentifiable, but not unpleasant odor. "The lovely Rhonda is on my left and her lovely date is on her other side."

Rhonda looked like a larger-than-life-size Barbie doll, in her strapless, green satin with turquoise tulle, prom-like ballgown, although her blonde hair was curly rather than straight. And Mr. Waggoner was like a giant brunet Ken doll, but presumably better endowed. Shirley blushed at the thought and blamed her pregnancy hormones, as she was doing a lot today.

As Mr. Waggoner pulled out Rhonda's chair for her, Squiggy said, "And our radioactive main guest of honor sits at the feet of the table."

Shirley was still processing that Squiggy probably meant her, with "radioactive" a likely Squiggism for "radiant," when Mr. Waggoner, who hadn't yet sat down, beamed at her with blindingly white teeth. Then he pulled out her chair for her, something Walter hadn't done since courtship. She mumbled her thanks and hoped that her blush could be passed off as the glow cast by her candy-pink frock.

Once Shirley and Mr. Waggoner were both seated, Squiggy said, "And then—"

"Yeah, it's boy-girl, we got that, Squig," Laverne said, yanking out the chair on his other side and plopping herself down into it like the tomboy she still was at heart.

Lenny dragged the chair with the jacket on it to the space between Shirley and Laverne. He was about to sit down when Squiggy said, "And now dinner is served."

Lenny braced his hands on the back of the chair and leaned forward. "Um, Squig, when you said 'twilight,' I wasn't sure when that was because we don't have a _Farmer's Alma Mater_. It's probably gonna be another fifteen or twenty minutes."

"No matter. We'll meanwhile away the minutes with witty, sparkling pre-dinner conversation."

Everyone looked at Mr. Waggoner as the most capable of such conversation. He cleared his throat and asked, "So how do you all know each other?"

Pointing, Rhonda said, "They're my neighbors. Well, Shirley was but she moved to Germany, but she's back now I think?" Shirley nodded. Rhonda continued, "And they all grew up together in Milwaukee."

"Fillmore High Class of '56," Shirley murmured.

"Go, Huskies!" Lenny shouted. Needless to say, that was not their mascot.

Laverne winced, maybe at Lenny yelling in her ear. Then she asked, "And how do you know Rhonda?" The "Biblically?" was implied.

It was Rhonda who answered, "We're working on a _Lost in Space_ together. Rhonda is the Venusian."

Instead of pursuing that subject, Mr. Waggoner said, "That must've been a bit of culture shock for you all, moving here from the Midwest. I'm from St. Louis myself."

"Well, I'll tell you, Wag, can I call you Wag?" Squiggy asked.

"Uh, sure."

"The way I look at it, making beer and making movies are a lot alike. They both help people forget their troubles and get happy."

Lenny quietly sang, "Get ready for the Judgment Day."

"That's very profound," Mr. Waggoner said.

"Thanks, Wags. And speaking of liquid refreshment...Len!" He snapped his fingers like his boyfriend was waiting on the table. Well, Lenny was sort of dressed like a waiter, but so was Squiggy.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Champagne for everyone!"

"Is Tacoma '66 OK?" Lenny asked, looking around the table.

"Just milk & Pepsi for me," Laverne said. "And I don't think Shirley is supposed to be drinking."

"Water!" Shirley gasped, suddenly aware of something that Mr. Waggoner's arrival had distracted her from.

"Kitchen or bathroom?" Lenny asked, looking unsure which direction to move.

"Shirl?" Laverne said, getting back to her feet and looking concerned.

"Vernie," Shirley whispered, more in shock than for privacy, "I think my water broke!"

"Isn't water a liquid instead of a solid?" Lenny asked, like he was back in Freshman Physics, about to flunk a pop quiz. "Unless it's ice. And I guess that was ice-breaking conversation."

Laverne gripped Lenny's arm and said tensely but patiently, "Lenny Honey, Shirley is having a baby."

He nodded so that his long blond hair swished. "I know, next month."

"No, Sweetie, sooner than that."

His blue eyes widened in shock and then panic. "Oh, no, where are the keys to the truck?"

"You didn't swallow them again, did you?" Squiggy asked wearily. "Francine is still pissed off that you didn't drive her back to Chicago and she had to sleep in Shirley's bed."

"That was seven and a half years ago, and she threw Boo Boo Kitty on the floor!" Shirley cried. "Oh God!" A wave of pain swept over her.

"No need to get upset about water through the bridge, Shirl. The spare keys are on the hat rack."

Laverne let go of Lenny's arm and grabbed the keys before he could. "You are not driving, Len." She tossed the keys to Squiggy, who caught them in surprise. "You are."

"We haven't even had dinner yet," he grumbled.

"You are driving Shirley to the hospital or I'm breaking up with you."

"I"m confused," Lyle Waggoner whispered loudly. "Which one is the father?"

"Neither," Rhonda whispered loudly back. "Shirley's husband is in Berlin."

The gorgeous stranger nodded. "Got it."

"Lenny Sweetie, please turn off the stove, oven, and any other kitchen appliances you've got goin'."

"Does that preclude the fridge?"

"No."

Lenny nodded and dashed into the kitchen.

Laverne looked at Rhonda and asked, "Can you go to my place and call the hospital?"

"Which one?"

"Wilshire Memorial!" Shirley gasped, picking a name out of thin air.

"And then look in my address book and call Walter Meeney in Berlin—"

"You're forgetting the time difference," Squiggy pointed out calmly.

"He's gonna be a father!"

"It can wait until late morning, which is afternoon German time."

"Shirl?"

"Call him tomorrow. But it's only about nine p.m. in New York and, Rhonda, I want you to call Carmine and tell him, tell him that I'm sorry for everything!" Shirley couldn't keep the calm she started out with, especially not with her mixed emotions and intense pain.

"Rhonda, call Carmine in New York and tell him that Shirley is in town and she's having her baby early," Laverne said with her own forced calm.

"And tell him he still owes me five bucks," Squiggy said.

Laverne glared at him and then looked towards the kitchen. "Sweetie, I need you to go up to my bedroom and get Shirley's suitcase to take out to the truck."

"Vernie, I've unpacked."

"Laverne, I don't know what to pack for a pregnant lady to take to the eternity ward!"

"How about I help Lenny pack and Lyle can call the hospital and Carmine?"

"Thank you, Rhonda. Just use my overnight bag, that'll be easier."

"Sounds good."

"Vernie, I'm scared!!"

Her best friend raced over to her side. Laverne put her arm around Shirley's shoulders and said, "Everything's going to be OK. You'll, well, get by with a little help with your friends."

Shirley smiled a little. "You'll make sure I don't give birth in the back of an ice cream truck?"

"Well, I'll do what I can but it's pretty much up to our future president at this point."

Shirley laughed, even though it hurt. "Thank you."

"Of course."

"You know, this reminds me a little of when my wife had a baby last year."

Everyone looked at the C-list celebrity, except the D-list celeb, who said, "Oh, Lyle is just arm-candy. This isn't a real date."

"It'd be a shitty one if it was," Squiggy observed.

Shirley and Laverne looked at each other in amusement and then Shirley planted a big smooch on her best friend's lips.

"A shitty date but the best fucking dinner party I've ever thrown!"

Laverne's hot-blooded lips stopped kissing back and she murmured, "Not now, Shirl."

"Right, sorry, Vernie."

Laverne helped Shirley to her feet and Rhonda escorted a dazed Lenny out into the hallway, Carol Burnett's best-looking sidekick trailing after them, saying, "Nice meeting the three of you."

"You, too, Waggy!" Squiggy called after them. Then he stood up and said, "So you two dames are thespians now?"

"Not exactly," Laverne said in the tenth greatest understatement of 1968.

"Well, if you eat each other out, can me and Lenny watch?" Laverne slapped him automatically, but he nonchalantly said, "Just me then?" She slapped him on the other cheek.

"Will you shut up and help me get Shirley out to the truck?"

He nodded and put Shirley's other arm around his shoulders. Then he couldn't help saying, "Shirl, I think you're gonna have to get this pink get-up dry-cleaned before you return it to Rhonda."

"That is the least of my problems right now, Andrew."

For once, he didn't object to the use of his baby name. He said something in German.

"What does that mean?"

"It's what I said to you a couple nights ago. 'Du bist jetzt zu Hause und unter Freunden.' 'You are home and among friends now.' It's what my Grandfodder Squiggman used to say whenever I came over. That and 'Get a haircut, you bum' in English."

She nodded and murmured, "Danke schoen," which led to Laverne singing the Wayne Newton song, offkey, on the walk out to the ice cream truck. It didn't ease the pain but it was a distraction.


	9. Hospital Zone

"She has your eyes."

Shirley used to daydream about having a doctor husband say that about their baby. Instead the words came out of the sassy but sweet mouth of the person who slipped the wedding ring on her finger eight months ago.

Shirley wished she could say, "She has your ears," or something, but of course the baby would inherit nothing from Laverne. So she just said, "You think so?"

"Yeah. Um, do you want me to call Walter now?"

Shirley sighed but nodded. She wished that he could have no part in this, but that wouldn't be fair to him, or their daughter.

A nurse poked her head in the room and said, "Mrs. Meeney, you have another visitor."

"Can you give us another minute?"

"Of course. I'll ask him to wait."

After the nurse left, Shirley thought of how much she wanted to tell Laverne, how much she wanted to ask. But somebody, probably Laverne's father, wanted to see Shirley and her brand-new baby. Well, there would be more chances to talk, after Shirley came home, for good.

(She doubted it was the boys, because they'd dropped by an hour earlier. Lenny had exclaimed, "Oh-ho-ho wow-ow-ow!" like he was "tripping on acid," while Squiggy inevitably said, "Shirley Wilhelminy Feeney Meeney, I didn't know you had it in you.")

"Thank you for everything, Vernie."

"Any time, Shirl." Her best friend stroked her hair and then carefully the baby's little red face.

A man wearing fringed brown boots, faded jeans, a tie-dye T-shirt, a fringed tan open vest, and a feathered headband around his dark, curly hair appeared in the doorway. He grinned and said, "Hey, Angel Face, and Angel Face, Jr."

"Howdy, Stranger. Come meet Carmen Meeney."

Laverne rolled her eyes, either at the sudden baby name choice or at Carmine ignoring her. She muttered, "I've gotta go make a phone call."


End file.
